


Him

by violet_electric



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Prison, Uneasy Allies, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22550890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violet_electric/pseuds/violet_electric
Summary: A rebel prisoner gains a new cellmate, the last man she possibly could have expected to see-- a man she has a bitter history with. Now, trapped in a box hurtling through space, they find themselves temporarily forced onto the same side, and neither is quite sure what to make of the situation.Featuring an OFC, with other original characters and original setting in the backstory.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Natasha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natasha/gifts).



> Something I wrote a long time ago, from a much larger original story of a rebel planet and its heroes that weaves in and out of the canon Blake's storyline. It is very OC heavy, which can be very disliked, but it was just for fun. Hope you enjoy and if you would like to see more of the story of Eran let me know :)  
> Gifted to a very talented writer who I spoke to long ago about posting my own work-- I hope you enjoy it and sorry for keeping you waiting so long!

Him. Him, him, him, him, him. 

It was him, and I felt the bottom of my stomach fall to the floor when that cold eye met my own. 

The cruiser was filled with fools. The fact I was out on deck, watching the new prisoner being taken in rather than in a cell myself was evidence of that. But there were two dozen of them, and only one of me. The only other prisoner spent most of his time crying. So much for the revolutionary spirit.

I was brushed to the side as they walked Travis through the hall. I smacked against the wall, causing a few of them to titter, and I knew he had not missed it yet his gaze remained fixed on the route ahead of him. It was not in either of our interests to be seen to know each other, I suppose.

“Cell 5, Stokes. And cuff him, can’t leave him for two seconds on his own. Watch the arm as well, there’s a shooter in there though I think we disabled it.”

Captain Brandon was smarter than I gave him credit for. Inept, over anxious and greedy were givens; anything else was rare for a Federation man in this business. I wondered if he knew how worthless Travis was to them. He would have better luck selling him to a colony; you couldn’t put a high enough price on revenge, and there were so many thirsty for it. Maybe Servalan could find some use for Travis but if she was hoping he would kill Blake for her, she was hoping in vain. The thing about revenge was that it rarely came instantly. It built up over years, years of fantasy, years of preparation. And the moment would never quite come just the way you had pictured. 

A rough shove to my shoulder, still stinging from the fight, brought me back to the present.

“You got five minutes love, better use them.”

I had at least managed to get a civil bargaining relationship with some of them. A mostly private shower and chance to shit was more than I could have hoped for. Muire liked to tease me endlessly, spitting out his sexist and racist vitriol but it was nothing I hadn’t heard before. I could even laugh at it now; for what value did he have, the lowest of the low, part of a dying breed. For all his talk he couldn’t lay a hand on me even if he wanted to.

Cold water stung my bones. I stood there, letting myself freeze. Mangled, tatted hair slid around my neck and melted in the water, covering my eyes with a soothing curtain, and I thought of him. Spreading my sticky fingers across my clammy flesh, I embraced myself tight.

I managed to get myself half dry before the knock on the door came and I was returned to my cell. Tyren pulled a wet tendril of my hair back viciously through the bars as he locked my door. I looked at him through dead eyes. 

Back to the four grey walls. I sat on the low bunk, staring blankly at the ceiling. I should have done my exercises, anything to pass the time, but I couldn’t stop thinking. All I could do was think. The field on Eran was as vivid to me now as if I was really standing there. Fingers running through the long grass, hair blowing across my face in the wind, breath ragged as I saw the gun rise. 

Right between my eyes, pressing against my temples, twisting my nerves. Then his harsh shout, his rough hand, his body protecting me from the glares and leers as he dragged me into the tin bhoza. 

I did not forget the twist of my hair, tied up in his leather fingers, while he whispered to me all the blood he would shed for my useless cause. He told me my name would be forgotten, if I was lucky, instead of being remembered as the traitor and feeble sellout I would be. 

I told him I knew nothing anyway. He had laughed at me. After a while he realised I wasn’t joking. I had information I could have given him, I suppose, but it was all stuff they knew. As for the latest initiative, it wasn’t my project; he would have to ask Mon or Lyn. I had my own plans, but they were for another time. When I had my part to play they would send me my instructions in code, for another person to translate, and only then would I understand even half of what was going on.

He ranted for a while, but his heart wasn’t quite in it. I don’t think he had much enthusiasm for Federation work any more. I was so small-time on his radar; nothing to compare to the biggest rebel in the galaxy, still at large, and still hanging over Travis every day. 

It had been a long time since I had slept or eaten or drank. The shack had begun to grow hot, all the movement in such a small place making oxygen scarce and tensions high. My head lolled back on my chair, and my eyes began to close. 

Sticky leather had grabbed my face suddenly, fingers jamming into my mouth and pressing down my tongue as something small was forced down my throat. 

He slammed my jaw up hard, throwing my head back. I could barely swallow even if I wanted to, the pill catching on my raw throat.

He still had his hand on my face for a moment. A thumb rested on my lips, pushing down on them slowly. In my blurred vision I had seen his tongue run along a faint bead of sweat above his lip.

“He’s not coming back,” I had said. 

I don’t think he had even asked me of Blake. But I was too exhausted to go on. It meant nothing anyway. At least I didn’t think it had meant anything; I supposed I would have to ask Travis himself now if I ever wanted to know.

“Where did he go, then?”

“I don’t know. He has business on Earth, but he has business everywhere, the entire galaxy is waiting to be saved from you lot.”

Travis had snorted and scoffed at that. Yet he could not doubt me for he had administered the truth drugs himself. 

And then all I could remember was being dumped on the cool grass, and panting furiously, and for a long time I lay there expecting to die. It was probably an hour before I realised Travis had disappeared, left me without a word, and in the strangest way I had felt adrift. 

I had collected myself eventually, never to speak of it again, the drugs having worn off by the time I wandered back to Mon and the others. 

There was utter silence in our corridor. I did not know if Harry, occupant of Cell 2, was asleep or dead. I believed the other two chambers were empty; I wondered for a moment if they should not have moved us up one, so there would be a space between each of us rather than letting two of us potentially communicate. I supposed they thought it was too much effort, and it was riskier to house Harry and I side by side than Travis and myself. I was the polar opposite to him. Or so it seemed.

I smiled; for the first time in weeks, those muscles came to life and I was unable to think of revolution or bitterness. 

I looked out of the bars of my cell. It was very quaint that they still kept them like this, even though it would probably be more efficient to block us in with plastic. Maybe they were worried we’d kill ourselves. Or scared of what they couldn’t see going on. Cameras would have easily fixed that-- maybe it was simply so they could torture easier, direct access to poke whatever nastiness through the bars from a safe distance day or night. It was zoo-like and it was a struggle against the desire to turn animal, feral, every waking hour.

The black panel opposite reflected the dim neon light above me. I could make out my own faint shape, face dark but visible. I could also see another figure, as the panel curved to the left, and I felt a jolt as I saw it was turned exactly as mine was. 

I leant forward, brushing my temples against the cool bars. I stared at the mirrored image for a long while. Words floated across my mind but I could not utter them. Silence seemed to say much more.

Finally he shifted, and perhaps it was a distortion of the light, but he seemed to be smirking.

“How did they get you?”

I wanted to see his reaction. If he really had been taken off guard, he should surely have been embarrassed. 

Predictably he snarled.

“Why do you need to know?”

I smiled.

“So they did ambush you. Or else you fucked up. Interesting to know not even the worst are infallible.”

In any other world that would have been an insult. But Travis took it as a compliment to his skill that he still had such a poor reputation.

He didn’t explain more nor did he seem particularly bothered about my own situation. I was used to him interrogating me, I supposed. It seemed wrong that he should just sit there, unperturbed.

“Is your arm alright?”

I wondered if Travis even recognised polite concern. I wondered then why I was trying to even be polite to him.

“Do you think if it was I would really be stuck here?”

He sounded annoyed at himself and I could imagine why. 

“It must be awful to rely on one thing so much that you’re useless without it.”

I could practically hear his teeth clench. I smiled at myself; I might as well have some fun in the only place in the world I could be safe from him fighting back. 

“Not quite as awful as being delusional, like your pathetic little race.”

Had I really gotten to him? My smile could not be stopped. Any insult to me from Travis was a compliment anyway.

“Which one of my races are you talking about? Or are both my halves equally pitiful?”

Travis’ reflection shifted, moving slightly closer to the bars, and he peered at my reflection more intently.

“Ah yes, you’re different to them, aren’t you? I can’t remember exactly…”

“It’s Niien. Half Eranian, half Niien. Explains why I’m better looking than the rest of them.”

“Hmm. Is that why the rebels exclude you?”

Even now, that sent the tiniest of chills down my spine, and a sinking in my gut. I had played on his insecurities; it was only fair he could play on mine.

“Some of them, yes. Usually they only brought it up when it suited them. If I let them down, I became that typical Niien girl. If I succeeded, I was brave just like an Eranian. Even people will the best intentions can still hold prejudices.”

“All people do. They’re all worthless.”

“I don’t know,” I mused, sarcastically, “I think I’ve maybe found one or two that are worthwhile.”

I had not realised before just quite how much of a fatalist Travis was. Most Federation soldiers cared about something or someone; their men, their leader, their girl, their family. I suppose all Travis cared about now was Blake-- but his only worth to Travis was his life to be taken away.

“So, how are we going to break out of here?” I asked, changing the subject to something more practical.

“Haven’t you had any bright ideas lying there staring at the ceiling?”

I sighed.

“I have tried my best. I don’t think it’s really the best idea as a female prisoner to try anything brash, surrounded by twelve Federation officers. I had a tracker on me but whether or not my people have the resources to find me is another thing.”

I was right against the bars at this point, my voice low as I could make it. Travis too had leaned in close. In a surreal sort of way it was like being at one of the old school scouting camps, trying to tell your friend in the bunk beside you what the girl above you had done to irritate you that day or debate just what that three second glance from your crush really meant.

The thought of Travis as my bosom pal nearly sent me into hysterics. Or perhaps it was the lack of food and hydration. 

“It won’t be hard to find a chance. They’re idiots.”

He glanced up in the general direction of said guard, who were out of sight and clearly out of earshot. A distant chuckle and the chink of a bottle could be heard.

“Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Federation don’t blow them all up rather than pay the bounty. You included.”

“Why not you?”

He paused a long time before answering. 

“Servalan and I share one common goal. She wants me alive until I complete it.”

I wanted to ask him if he had ever thought about what would happen once he did. I supposed he had enough time to think of that himself. 

We let the conversation end. I rolled onto my back and looked at the ceiling, the grey seemingly a lot less dull than before. So much of my time had been spent reminiscing, regretting, pitying myself and accepting my fate. Perhaps it was the mental scars of being trained to be acquiescing, submissive, and malleable. For so long we were docile and accepting, ready to suffer and serve our time, believing in change without ever making it. Now I had to be something new and resourceful. I was supposed to make people believe I was part of the future, and worthy of their trust.

Yet even with that attitude, I doubted I could do it alone. I needed someone to cause a distraction. There was some small, slim chance I could do it during the shower time; force one of the guards to come in, then get him out of the way, and somehow sneak or shoot my way past everyone. I knew I couldn’t do that, though, and I didn’t want to either. After running round all the ideas in my head, I came to the sure conclusion that I would simply have to wait and hope when opportunity came I recognised it. So I lay there, staring at the ceiling, and waited. 

It was only then that I realised sometimes you have to ask for an opportunity to appear.

“Travis?”

Why I asked him I did not know. It would be delusional to expect anything from him. Yet it didn’t stop my optimism.

He gave a grunt as a reply.

“Will you help me escape?”

“Why would I?”

It was a fair question.

“Out of the kindness of your heart?”

He sniffed.

“Truth be told, I don’t care much what happens to you one way or another. I won’t actively go out of my way to hurt you. But helping you is just a pointless liability. Say I let you out-- say you even got to the escape pod, do you know what to do then? Or if we escaped together, how could you not be tempted to double-cross me? Or cause some other inconvenience that gets us into an even worse situation? Besides you don’t want to get out the easy way.”

“What, through killing?”

I sighed and ran my tongue across my cheek.

“I suppose if provoked I could justify it. Maybe. But you’re right, I won’t shoot to kill.”

“What difference does it make if they die here or on some shitty planet somewhere, or in their own beds at eighty, having lived a shitty life for a shitty cause? They’re not on your side. They’d kill you if your people ever do manage to stop bickering amongst yourselves and actually pose a threat to anyone else.”

I bit my tongue. He didn’t need to know of Operation Caudan Red. I had heard his argument many a time from many others. I still cared about life, however. That was the difference. If they died now they might miss their moment. What if I had been killed by Travis that day in the field? I would not have been able to save lives, build homes, and bring our country to the brink of freedom. But then what if I died here and now? I would never be able to realise all the things I had dreamed of.

I wondered if Federation officers had dreams. What they were promised at the end of it all. What made them keep going. Money and security, of course, but why? What did they need to secure, what did they need to buy, and what would they need to be satisfied when the day they had to die finally came?

If I knew would it make a difference?

I wanted to talk to Travis about something, anything, to keep the time passing. He was possibly the worst person in the world to have been stuck with if I wanted conversation. He seemed to have reached a level of total apathy. 

It surprised me when after an hour of silence he chose to break it.

“How long have you been here?”

“About… two weeks, nearly. Ten and a half days precisely.”

“They wait until the cells are full then?”

“I guess so. I think they’re getting bored with this sector. If there’s no other fish to catch in the next week they’ll drop us off as we are.”

A pause, then another question.

“What’s the routine? Do they feed you, beat you, clean you?”

“They feed us a half portion at 6am and another at 6pm. Nobody’s hit me yet, though sometimes they do think it’s funny to give me a little slap here or there, or a poke, or a tug. I take it in exchange for shower time.”

“They are soft, then. Or perhaps simply soft on you.”

“I’d rather they stayed soft than hard.”

I gave a giggle, childish as it was. Even Travis’ lips quirked up slightly; he had a sense of humour buried deep inside him somewhere. It wasn’t funny really-- I had been terrified of being molested in some way since I came on board, and already some of them gave me too much of an aggressive eyeing up to and from my shower. But I would take the chance to laugh about it when I could.

I lay back and laughed for what seemed like forever. I thought maybe I was going mad. The light was starting to dim. Must’ve been midnight. They gave us some darkness until breakfast, then the harsh neon blared again. I suppose sleep deprivation was a way of keeping us quiet. Or breaking us down till we talked.

I counted down in my head from 100. Hopefully I would be asleep before I finished.

I must have been, because the lights were on again when I was awoken by a loud shout.

“Attention!”

“Stand up straight for the Supreme Commander,” I heard Brandon hiss.

My eyes bulged. Servalan here? I thought Travis was being a fool. But she had come for him after all.

“Take me to him, I want to make sure you are treating your prisoners well.”

I doubted she cared at all. Probably just wanted to smirk at him through the bars and enjoy his powerlessness.

In she swanned, wearing a high neck navy dress, and looking sensational as ever. I had only ever seen her from a distance; up close I got the full wave of glamour. Perfume subtle but heady, swelling as she moved her arms, lips perfect ruby and big eyes outlined with kohl. I could see the wrinkles in her powder now too, but most who looked at her probably were half in a daze to begin with and would never have noticed.

Her eyes alighted on me and lit up with mild interest. Perhaps not exactly recognition, but it would not be hard to guess where I came from and what that could mean.

She paused beside my door, looking down at me. I stared back at her, unable to do anything else.

“Who is this one?”

Her voice was so low and refined. It almost made me forget how vile she was.

“This is Jace, Violet Jace, one of the Eranian rebels,” Brandon replied somewhat proudly. “She’s a tricky one, could be useful to have her as leverage over them.”

Servalan laughed.

“The day the Eranians pose a threat will be the day you will be Supreme Commander. What a pity something so young and pretty is aligned with such a foolish cause.”

I gritted my teeth and beamed at her. She turned away with a smirk.

“I have my eyes on only one man today,” she said as she moved in front of Travis. 

There was a pause as she ran her gaze over him and smiled.

“I hope they haven’t been mistreating you, Travis.”

No response. 

“Well, not to worry,” she continued. “I can assure you the Federation will treat you with utmost care, indefinitely.”

Her eyes were cold. I knew she was lying. I wondered what exactly was going on there; what leverage she had on him, and what he had on her. It had to be more than simply Blake.

She glanced round at Brandon and waved her hand.

“Well, release him into my custody.”

Brandon grimaced a little; clearly payment was on his mind.

“Supreme Commander, if I may--”

“Your pay will be supplemented accordingly, Captain. The Federation are exceptionally grateful and will be forever in your debt.”

He spoke no more. I was sure he doubted her, but her entire manner sent warning signals and he must have been very suddenly aware she could destroy his entire ship and its crew in an instant without anyone ever knowing they were gone. 

A code was typed in; I craned my neck, rushing to the bars shamelessly, not that it would help me much.

Servalan noticed me out of the corner of her eye.

“Well some little bird isn’t enjoying her cage.”

She stepped away from the door, allowing Travis to be led out, and peered at me through the bars.

“I wonder what you would do to have freedom...” 

She was leading me. I knew she wanted information. The rough prison slacks chaffed my dry thighs as I shifted from leg to leg. For one second I felt sincerely tempted.

And then I had a better idea.

“I’ll tell you everything, Servalan, everything,” I panted, clinging to the bars desperately. 

I tried to squeeze some frantic tears out, but my body wasn’t co-operating. She studied me carefully.

“I’d imagine, in fact, you would even lie to try and escape here. Is that right?”

She smirked. I rattled the bars.

“No you don’t understand, I really do. I really do. Just let me out and… I’ll come to a deal with you. I don’t care enough, I really don’t.”

Servalan gave a little sigh and began to turn away, running her fingers along the bars as she did so. The guards looked at me in astonishment, but continued along the corridor. My eyes fell on Travis, and my stomach dropped again. 

“You know, don’t you?” I said, half begging. “You must have heard me talk about it.”

I stared at that cold eye like it was the only beam of light at the end of a very very dark tunnel. I might as well give it my best shot. His face was blank.

Servalan gave us both a glance.

“Travis?”

He looked from her to me, then back and without skipping a beat he gave a nod.

“She muttered something about Mon and the movement preparing soon. They have new technology.”

He was a very accurate liar. 

The door buzzed and Tyren grabbed my arm roughly. I stumbled forward in a daze. It didn’t feel real. 

Harry gave a low sob. I whirled round without thinking and had to restrain myself from grabbing the bars of his cell. His wide, frantic eyes bored into my soul. I looked at his pale grey face, pasted with sweat and tears, one last time. I tried to tell him it was all right, but I couldn’t lie. He wasn’t going anywhere good, if anywhere at all. 

I turned away. I thought of what Travis had said. Perhaps it didn’t matter. Perhaps if he died today that would be as good as any other day. Perhaps it was what I needed to tell myself in order to stop myself from breaking.

We were passing the airlock. I knew the escape pods were there. All I had to do was duck and run. 

The guards stopped up suddenly, distracted by something ahead. A couple of them ran forward. I did not hesitate.

I slammed Tyren in the throat and seized his gun, headbutting him to the wall and darting through the archway beside it. I made a mental note to thank all the gods there were in this universe later that this ship had an emergency override on the door. I slammed the lever down and just as Tyren staggered towards me.

I could hear him banging against the window of the door. I didn’t have time to think about it. The pods were old but they had new code locks on them. For a split second I panicked. I began to frantically push the buttons, trying every quick combination I could think of. 1-1-1-1, 1-1-1-2, 1-2-3-4, but the banging on the door was beginning to distract me. I heard a distant crack and whirled around, fumbling with the gun. Brandon had smashed his gun against the window. That gave me an idea.

The lock proved no match for a blaster directly to its side. The lid was slightly dented but it would work well enough. 

I can’t remember all that happened; it was a blur of darkness and shuddering. I leapt in without a thought and rammed the lid shut, the inner seal protecting me from the slight gap I had left in the outside. It had some manual controls; I saw from the co-ordinates we weren’t far from Freedom City. I might as well land there if anywhere. If the ship had tried to blast me they had missed badly. Perhaps Servalan still thought I could be of use if she found me again. Perhaps they didn’t care.

The land on Freedom City was rough and attracted more attention to myself than I wanted. I had nothing to pawn except the little vessel itself and half my hair (Niien’s natural purple tinge is very attractive in certain wig styles and of value in this sector), which got me enough to send a few messages to Lyn and Mon, and a brief passage on a freighter to one of the moons near Jupiter. Lyn was doing some drills and test runs there and I could be picked up.

Juddering through space, leaning against a metal crate in the hold, I decided I would never tell them about him. It was something only I could quite understand. A tear slipped down my face. It occurred to me I had never gotten a chance to thank him. I never thought I’d be in debt to him, of all the beings in the galaxy. But here I was. _Sese ex spatio._ Perhaps someday we’d land together, just long enough for our debts to be paid. And perhaps-- just maybe-- I’d get him a drink to wipe the smirk off his face.


End file.
